Inevitably There All Along
by WishesintheNightSky
Summary: Sam hears music in the choir room, from a voice he hasn't heard since the day Kurt left. He listens and is simply there as the boy lets out all of his bottled up emotions. Hevans pre-slash  and slash… . Sam's POV, mostly. Sucky summary.


**Title: Inevitably There All Along**

**Author: WishesintheNightSky**

**Rating: T, for language. **

**Warnings: Slash, language, angst, fluff...**

**Summary: Sam hears music in the choir room, from a voice he hasn't heard since the day Kurt left. He listens and is simply there as the boy lets out all of his bottled up emotions. Hevans pre-slash (and slash…). Sam's POV, mostly. Sucky summary. **

**Disclaimer: Has Blaine apologized for all of the asshole-y things he's done? Have Hevans finally gotten together? No? Then I still don't own _Glee _or any of its characters/plotlines. I don't own "Painting Flowers" by All Time Low, either.**

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><p>Sam's POV<p>

_"Strange maze, what is this place? I hear voices over my shoulder, nothing's making sense at all..."_

Sam hadn't meant to stand by the choir room's door and listen to Kurt Hummel sing as the boy plunked out a sad melody on the piano. He didn't even know why Kurt was at McKinley in the first place. It was long after school hours, and there was no Glee practice today, just football, which had ended a couple of hours ago, so it wasn't like Kurt had anyone to visit or spy on, if that's what his intentions had been.

_"Wonder why do we race? And everyday, we're running in circles...such a funny way to fall..."_

He recognized the song as "Painting Flowers" by All Time Low. He'd heard it from the soundtrack of the Tim Burton version of Alice in Wonderland that his sister had insisted on playing on loop ever since she'd gotten the CD. But Kurt's rendition of it was filled with more emotion, as if the lyrics were his life at the moment. The boy's higher-pitched range made for a more pure sound than the original, but the sound was slightly croaky, as though the countertenor had been crying before he'd began to sing.

_"Tried to open up my eyes, I'm hoping for a chance to make it alright..."_

Kurt's voice started to grow stronger, his words getting louder as he let out emotions that Sam could tell had probably been bottled up for some time now with his impromptu performance. Sam had never heard so much passion poured into a single song before, and his head dropped against the wall he'd been leaning against, closing his eyes and letting the haunting tune wash over him.

_"When I wake up, the dream isn't done! I wanna see your face, and know I made it home..."_

He sounded wistful, like he was hoping desperately for the wish in those lyrics to come true. Sam's chest clenched painfully, and he peeked through the window for a glimpse of Kurt's expression. He inhaled sharply with something akin to shock as he watched tears streaming from the boy's already bloodshot glasz eyes.

_"If nothing is true, what more can I do? I am still painting flowers for you...whoa-oh..."_

Bitterness laced the already defeated tone that Kurt had, making Sam want to just run in there and hold his former glee member, until he'd cried away all the pain that was still there. But he couldn't. His feet felt like they were planted in cement, making him just stand there, shoulders slumped, his hazel-green orbs locked on the boy that was still singing his heart out.

_"Showed my cards, gave you my heart, wish we could start all over...nothing's making sense at all."_

As the second verse started, porcelain white hands banged on the piano keys, the notes vibrating through the empty hallways. Sam could feel his heartbeat racing as the power of the display really struck him. No matter deaf or blind, anyone could easily be able to tell that Kurt meant every single word of this. Sam wondered what had caused the usually so proud and sure of himself diva that had never let anyone get him into a slump before from what he'd witnessed of the boy so far, to break down like this.

_"Tried to open up my eyes, I'm hoping for a chance to make it alright..."_

Kurt's face twisted up into what resembled something more than anger, the coldness in his orbs taking Sam by surprise. Ever since the boy had transferred to Dalton Academy, he'd thought that the boy would feel safer; happier. When Sam had seen him at Sectionals, that's what he thought he could see in Kurt's smile as the Warblers performed, but, looking back on it, it seemed forced at the time; fake.

Even on Valentine's Day, during the dinner that the male had set up, every smile that the boy had had on his face appeared to convey more resentment than actual happiness, other than the ones he'd had whenever he glanced at the New Directions members. Those grins had actually reached his pretty eyes, and they'd radiated a warmth that he didn't have with the dudes in the uniforms. Especially with the lead singer of those…what were they called? Garglers or something…?

Every time Kurt had happened to shift his gaze toward the short boy with the overly-gelled hair, those eyes always clouded over with a sort of combination of sadness and longing. Sam didn't think that it was healthy for such a confident person like him to feel so sad just with a single look.

_"When I wake up, the dream isn't done. I wanna see your face, and know I made it home...if nothing is true, what more can I do? I am still painting flowers for you...still painting flowers for you..."_

As the second chorus ended, Kurt's voice dropped into a breathy whisper. The boy's fingers paused on their positions on the piano, stopping the music as he laid his head against the instrument. Sam could hear him trying and failing to suppress a sob, and he peered into the room once more.

Kurt's hands were reaching toward his perfectly coiffed hair, and they twined into the neatly placed locks, messing up the style that the countertenor had probably taken a while to get it into. The boy tugged at the light chestnut mane, making the hairs stick up even further. He was still crying, teardrops spilling onto the black and white keys, body shaking as he let out a quiet whimper.

Regaining his composure soon enough, Kurt took a moment to wipe away the tears still on his face, though Sam could see that his nose was still stuffy and red, eyes still bloodshot, and cheeks crimson from his attempts to keep from breaking down again.

Taking a long, deep breath, Kurt belted out the bridge, voice hitting various high notes that were astounding to listen to.

_"I_ _heard everything you said...__I, don't wanna lose my head..." _A sniffle here, and then Sam strained to hear the boy sing the chorus, as Kurt dropped into a murmur, sounding almost like an angel as the last words of his ballad escaped his mouth. _"When I wake up, the dream isn't done...I wanna see your face and know I made it home. If nothing is true, what more can I do?...Here I am, still painting flowers for you."_

Sam gulped, and after some hesitation, he opened the door, clapping slowly, deliberately, as he stepped foot into the room. Kurt froze, as Sam had expected, before whipping his head around to stare at the intruder. The jock stuffed his hands into his pockets, looking down at the tile floor sheepishly.

"That…was, um, beautiful," he told the boy that was straddling the bench rigidly, arms crossed over his chest defensively.

"Thank you." Sore as Kurt's voice sounded, the words still successfully came across as curt (no pun intended); short and to the point. Sam winced at the frosty tone that had been put into the two syllables. _He sure doesn't sound thankful_, Sam thought to himself.

"I…uh…" Sam searched for something to say, anything that would break the awkward silence. Kurt raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow at him, tapping his foot impatiently as he waited.

Sam cleared his throat uncomfortably, before settling on glancing up, gaze locking with the countertenor's glasz orbs.

"If they can't realize the mistake they made, whoever hurt you, I mean…" he added at Kurt's confused expression, "…then they really aren't worth it. You deserve the best, Kurt. You're an awesome dude, and any person would be lucky to have you even as just a friend."

Sam only caught the slight widening of the boy's eyes, before he was turning and heading out the door. He heard a quick scuffing of footsteps against the ground, and then feet were running towards him, a hand gripping his shoulder to keep him from walking any further.

"Do you really mean that?"

The voice was breathless; insecure. Sam turned to face him, staring intently into Kurt's eyes. _Lor menari. _After a moment of silence, he finally lifted his hand, cupping the former New Direction member's cheek gently. He brushed his thumb lightly over the soft skin, and hearing the boy's breathing hitch, he whispered genuinely.

"Yeah, I honestly do."

And he walked away.

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><p>Normal POV<p>

One week later, Kurt had transferred back to McKinley. He told no one his reasons why, but it definitely wasn't because he thought that the bullying would stop. Karofsky and Azimio were the same assholes they were before, throwing slushies in the boy's face, and shoving him into lockers often. The Glee Club did their best to help Kurt out, but they couldn't always be there. All they were able to stop was the dumpster tossing, and even then, it was occasionally a close call.

Everyone was confused. Why did Kurt come running back, when it seemed like the torment only got worse? Dalton had been a safe place, so why did he leave?

Sam thought that maybe the way Kurt's eyes softened every time he caught his gaze were some hints. And the way that the boy seemed to gravitate toward him whenever they passed each other in the hallways, or during Glee rehearsal were some more clues.

Kurt took the opportunity to tell him '_thank you_' whenever they crossed one another's paths. Only Sam knew why. Kurt ignored the way everyone else threw him puzzled and suspicious looks during these statements of gratitude, because Sam knew. And he was the only one that was supposed to.

When Regionals came up, Sam saw the way the dudes in the blazers threw Kurt venomous looks, bitter about him leaving so close to the competition. They probably thought he'd only been there as a spy; someone to throw them off their game. The boy with a ridiculously large amount of gel in his hair (worse than Mr. Schue's, and _that _was saying something) in particular kept shooting Kurt wounded and angry glances; looking like a kicked puppy. But Sam knew the truth, and for Kurt, that seemed to be just enough.

Sam and Kurt had drifted closer, always seen talking together wherever they went. They didn't pay any attention to the looks they got, or the whispers that were spoken about them. They only focused on each other.

Lately, their friendship had gotten more intimate, frequently holding hands in the hall of McKinley High, and Kurt sometimes being practically on Sam's lap during Glee. The two didn't think anything of it; it was natural for them. It was as if even gravity couldn't pull them apart anymore. They understood each other completely, always patient, always kind. Always there when the other was in need of comfort.

So when Nationals came, and backstage, Kurt kissed him, saying, "I love you." against his lips, Sam hadn't been surprised.

It had been inevitable. Simply because Sam had been there all along.

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><p><strong>Blegh. That was horrible, wasn't it? ;-; I should start taking some writing lessons…but hey. I'm only twelve. I'll get better soon enough! :D HOPEFULLY. <strong>

**Anyways, review, please! I could always use some advice…and someone to tell me I don't entirely suck. :DD**


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